


Kyoto

by LPM



Series: Mr. Sourwolf and Family [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Implied Mpreg, Japan, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Verse, Pregnancy, Pregnant Stiles, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPM/pseuds/LPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek gets called out on urgent business, Stiles gets anxious; but then he's asked to come along and he's excited to be going somewhere he's never been. But when tourism takes a turn for the deadly, who will be there when Stiles and his cubs' lives are in danger!?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kyoto

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! So I'm really happy people still like this series, and I hope you guys stick with me through til the end, which is, I think, nigh. I've got maybe 2 more parts to Mr. Sourwolf and Family before I put it to bed. Sad day! But all good things must end. Anyway, in this installment, our heros find themselves in a foreign country! I myself have been to where they go so I tried to describe it as best I could from memory as it was quite some time ago. Anyway I hope you enjoy, and if you're looking for some of our regularly scheduled hanky panky and funny business, then wait...it'll come again.

The golden structure blazes bright in the sun, its reflection clear on the placid waters of the lake it stands by. Tall exotic looking trees and shrubbery surround it, arranged as precisely as a bouquet to frame the golden pavilion.  
  
"This is Rokuon-Ji, but it is most commonly known as Kinkaku-Ji because of its gold color" his guide says, pointing to the building.  
  
"It was once the shogun's villa, which was turned into a Zen temple by his son upon his death."  
  
A redheaded girl next to him says something in Japanese. The guide smiles and says something back.  
  
Kyoto, the old imperial capitol city, is nothing like Stiles expected when he'd heard they were headed to Japan two days ago.

* * *

  
 _"It's Korematsu again" Derek said curtly into the phone as he rushed around the room throwing clothes onto the bed. Stiles watched him running around, patiently putting the suit jackets and pants into garment bags and folding the shirts into the small carry-on._  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it can't be helped." Derek's voice was nothing but irritation, and Stiles felt bad for his secretary, Alistair, who was talking to him on the phone.  
  
"Alright, book the tickets, I want the soonest ones out of here."  
  
Derek hung up his phone and ripped the bluetooth out of his ear in one frustrated movement.  
  
Stiles raised a chastising brow at him, "It's not Al's fault Korematsu is being stubborn you know" he said and Derek cast a shame-faced look at his phone,  
  
"I'll send him a fruit basket and some tickets to see Mama Mia, he likes that kind of thing" he said. Stiles chuckled and went back to packing.  
  
Alistair, who was freaking out about a merger they’d been working on for months, had called Derek about an hour ago. The last person to sign, Hideyoshi Korematsu, was an old Japanese businessman whose consent was integral to the completion of the contract. He had been a drinking buddy of Derek's grandfather, Gordon Hale, until they both met and fell in love with the girl who would eventually choose and marry Gordon. Embittered by the rejection, Korematsu had left back to Tokyo without ever speaking a word to Gordon again. Now, that old rivalry was causing Derek problems.  
  
"So...Kyoto eh? That seems so...so far" Stiles murmured, zipping up the garment bag. Derek hoisted the bag off the bed and lay down with his head near Stiles' rounded belly. His arms encircled Stiles' waist as best they could at the awkward angle and he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his mate as it was flavored with the unique tang of pregnancy.  
  
"Yeah...its pretty far." he sighed, squeezing Stiles just a little closer.  
  
"How long do you think it'll take convincing Korematsu?" Stiles asked, threading his fingers through Derek's dark hair. The reality that he would be without his husband for any amount of time hit him then, and he was suddenly feeling nervous.  
  
"Korematsu is just an old wolf playing games" Derek scoffed, "all he really wants is an apology and a drink with his old friend's spawn. I'm just going to go, make nice, and he’ll sign. No more than a few days” 

_Stiles nodded, fingers still carding through Derek’s hair. They lay in silence for a time, each just appreciating the other’s body heat, until Derek groaned and sat up._

_“It had to be now of all times,” he grumbled, “now when you’re carrying our cubs. I’m not…I don’t want to leave you. Even if its for a day.”_

_Stiles looked up into his stormy eyes and his face which had tightened in plain distress._

_“Business calls” he said helplessly. He didn’t want Derek to leave either; wolf instincts that had never been so strong normally were rearing their heads and everything in him was rejecting the idea. A breeding omega never liked being apart from their mate, especially not this far along in the pregnancy. Logically, Stiles knew that Derek would only be gone a short time, that he’d not leave Stiles alone (Penny and Anna would be keeping him company at the house), but instincts weren’t exactly based on logic._

_“No. Korematsu calls, and I’m not liking having to answer it without you.” Derek’s expression grew pensive and he was still for a minute before he had whipped out his phone and dialed someone._

_“Alistair, we need one more ticket in the seat directly next to mine. Okay. Yes…alright that sounds good. 8pm? Good work, I’ll meet you at the gate.”_

_Conversation over, he put the phone aside and turned to Stiles, expression relaxed,_

_“I can’t leave you behind” he said “but I can take you with me.”_

_Stiles rolled his eyes and got out of bed, intending to get packing, but Derek stilled him, getting up instead,_

_“No, you packed mine. I’ll do yours” he said, and disappeared into their closet._

_Stiles relaxed onto the bed and allowed himself a moment of relief mixed with pure excitement._

_He was going to Japan!_ __  
  


* * *

 

"...died of tuberculosis not long after..." the guide is saying when Stiles refocuses on her.

 

"Let’s take a 30 minute break and meet back here."  
  
The group scatters, people heading to the areas of interest. Soon he's alone, the guide having walked off with the red headed girl.  
  
The weather being clear, unusually so if the local people are to be believed, Stiles shrugs and decides to take a stroll, eschewing the tourist trap gift shops for the quiet beauty of the grounds surrounding the temple and lake.  
  
Tall spindly trees stand stark against the solid blue sky as he walks deeper into the garden, absorbing the peace and quiet. Kyoto is a city of juxtaposition, modern concrete structures next to ancient temples and castles. He’d seen young people, dressed for the warm day in short skirts and pants, busily texting on their phones as they walked by geisha in full traditional garb, white-painted faces lovely beneath ornately done hair.

 

He’d been unsettled to leave his home, the instinct to nest makes being anywhere but there a little more than uncomfortable, but the feeling of Kyoto is calming. Something about being in the midst of so much history creates an atmosphere of mysticism, a subtle element of _something more_ that is staying Stiles’ rampant pregnancy nerves.

 

“Triplets is it?” a voice to his right says, startling Stiles out of his reverie. He looks over into the eyes of an old woman, seated on the steps of a small well off the path. She smiles at him and something about her eyes makes Stiles want to run, but his feet turn and walk off the path, stepping closer.

 

“Yes.” He says, through lips that have gone numb. The air in the little alcove, surrounded on either side by dense trees, is suddenly chilly.

 

“How fortunate for you” the woman’s voice is even colder than the air, laced with what Stiles recognizes as subtle malice. Yet his feet move him closer still.

 

“Who are you?” he asks, though he thinks perhaps the more appropriate question would be “ _what_ are you”.

 

The old woman’s eyes widen a fraction, her smile showing a glimpse of one fanged tooth.

 

“I am like you” she replies “and yet more. So much more.”

 

When he stops moving, he’s directly in front of the well, level with where the old woman sits on the steps.

 

“A werewolf.” He says flatly, fear making him short. The old woman cackles and Stiles feels ice in his heart,

 

“Not quite” she breathes.

 

Then she’s no longer an old woman but a young one; long-limbed and dark haired, only her frightening eyes and cold smile remain.

 

“I am a shape-shifter known to the people of this realm as a fox woman” she whispers. Her voice seems to echo from the trees around him, drowning out the rustle of the trees or the sounds of birds. Stiles steels himself against his nerves, willing away the panic that threatens to overwhelm him. For his children’s sakes, he can’t lose his head.

 

“Yeah well, I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you” he says testily. The woman’s smile disappears and her eyes narrow,

 

“It is not for you to want” she snaps “it is for me to take.”

 

Stiles arches an eyebrow in confusion,

 

“Take what?” he asks “I don’t have anything on me.”

 

The woman’s face is terrible with greed, her fangs fully dropped in her now-smiling mouth,

 

“Not on. In.” she hisses and raises a hand.

* * *

 

Time stops.

 

He feels like he’s trying to move through air as thick as molasses; as if he’s trying to push out a screaming plea but a vice has tightened around his neck, choking off all sound. Everything is frozen in a moment, one horrible moment, when instinct tells him that this woman is about to do something unforgivably awful. And he’s powerless to stop it.

 

“ _Mine_ ” her voice lances through his head, curls around his consciousness like a snake. She’s inside him, seeking something…something…

 

_Triplets is it?_

With sudden clarity he knows what she’s after and despair floods him as he feels her soulless clutch get nearer to its goal. His children, his and Derek’s pups.

 

“No! No! No!” he screams in his mind, trying to do something, _anything_ , to stop her. But her thrall is too strong, built over many more years than he can fathom. And he knows. Knows with terrible finality, that he can’t defeat her.

 

“I’m so sorry” he sobs, first to his unborn children and then to Derek. “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

A strong wind blows through the alcove, disrupting the preternatural stillness of the fox woman’s thrall. Suddenly, Stiles can feel his feet, can move of his own will. He stumbles and immediately his arms go around his belly. In front of him, the woman is no longer smiling; her face is frozen in rage. He can’t feel her cold presence inside his head anymore, he is wholly himself, and three tiny heartbeats tell him that his children are just fine.

 

“You should be more careful” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Stiles turns to see the redheaded girl from before, walk into the alcove from the path.

 

“This is the soul-eating fox woman, Kitsune” the girl explains, stepping directly in front of the frozen woman and smiling in her face.

 

“She was going to take the souls of your cubs and then kill you”

 

For what feels like the millionth time in the day, Stiles feels a panic attack threaten to overwhelm him and he leans against a tree.

 

“You have no cause for fear now Mr. Hale” the girl says calmly, “I have trapped her in her shell. She cannot harm you.”

 

The girl’s face is honest, her tone relaxing, and Stiles finds himself swallowing the urge to break down and straightening up off the tree.

 

“I…I…thank you!” he says, gratitude making him breathless “you saved my babies.”

The girl smiles and turns back to the woman, whose eyes follow her though the face is still unnaturally still.

 

“And you,” the girl addresses the woman sternly “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

She chants something and Stiles feels a shiver go up his spine. Magic saturates the air and tingles his nose until he sneezes from it. When he opens his eyes again, the fox woman is gone.

 

“There” the girl says, “my work is done…well…almost”

 

Then she’s in front of him, filling his vision with her black eyes and flaming hair.

 

“I know you probably don’t need another person in your head, but I’m afraid They won’t let you go having seen this.” She says and once again Stiles finds he can’t move; but this time he’s calm, this time he doesn’t feel fear.

 

“Who are you?” he asks for the second time that day, and the girl shakes her head sadly,

 

“They won’t let you know that either.” She says, “but know I am a friend, and that you and yours will always be welcome in Kyoto.”

 

He smiles at her and she smiles back and it feels like a farewell. Then she’s saying something and his world goes black.

 

When he wakes up again, it’s to Derek’s worried face, in a hospital bed.

* * *

 

“I’m so ready to leave” Derek grumbles, shifting in his seat. He takes a sip of the Courvoisier in his tumbler and glares moodily out the window. The last few people trickle in through the doors and the flight attendants bustle up and down the aisles, shutting luggage compartments and tending to last minute issues. Their flight is just about full and is running a little late, but they’re on their way back to California.

 

“It can’t have been that bad” Stiles says and Derek snorts,

 

“Yeah, while you lay around the hotel getting waited on hand and foot, I got to entertain old man Korematsu all around Kyoto doing whatever it is he wanted me to” he grouses, clearly still irritated about it. Stiles smirks,

 

“come now, I think those linen underthings looked really good on you!” he says jovially, referring to the pictures he had received from Korematsu himself, of Derek wearing traditional _fundoshi_ , blushing bright red next to a similarly embarrassed Alistair.

 

“You too Al!” Stiles adds, and Alistair, sitting across the aisle from them, goes red and sinks down into his seat.

 

“Ugh, you know I’m burning those right?” Derek growls and Stiles shrugs,

 

“That’s fine, I can make copies when Hide comes to visit for Christmas”

 

Stiles smiles and tunes out Derek’s indignant ranting, looking out the window as the plane backs away from the gate and begins taxi.

 

The trip had been a good one. After being released from the hospital on good health, they’d gone shopping, seen tea ceremony, and watched sumo. Korematsu turned out to be a nice old man with a lot of regret about letting a woman get between him and his old friend, he’d taken an immediate liking to Stiles and had spent the time flirting outrageously with him. The only thing that bothers Stiles is the hole in his memory, the blank spot from when he’d split from the group to walk in the gardens to when he’d woken up in the hospital. He can’t remember anything.

 

Derek told him that the tour guide had found him passed out just off the main path by the bridge, the very last place he remembers standing. Try as he might, he can’t think of what could have happened. The doctor told him that he needs to rest more, Stiles thinks that's ridiculous.

 

“Well whatever, at least we’re going back home. This trip was just…ugh!” Derek is saying when Stiles tunes back in.

 

“Aaaaw” Stiles coos, fighting back a smile, “it’s ok baby.”

 

Derek lets out a disgruntled grumble and settles into his seat as the flight attendant starts the safety demonstration. Stiles also settles in with a yawn, staring back out his window at the bustling airport and the city beyond it.

 

“See you sometime Japan” he murmurs sleepily.

 

And when he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he dreams of red hair and black eyes and someone he can call a Friend.

* * *

 

**California**

 

Lorenzo. Such an unusual choice of name. But what more could he expect? Stiles himself has such an unusual nickname and an unusual given name, that of course his child’s own name would follow the tradition. The kid is a little on the scrawny side for all he’s 10 years old, but his school records say he’s clever.

 

“I finally found you” he mutters, eyes trained on Lorenzo as the boy talks animatedly with another kid his age.

 

The man adjusts his glasses before driving away, plans cycling through his mind. No one would remember him, a man in a black car with no other distinguishing features other than its plates which had on them, spelled in big letters, one word.

 

J O N E S.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wellp! That's that! I'm sure you all know who was in the car at the end. Foreshadowing! I hope you're excited for the next part, I know I am!


End file.
